


Keep It Together. (You have to.)

by Amancer_Sunrise



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Alternate Universe, Baby Nero (Devil May Cry), Dante going thru it but trynna pull through vuv, Father Figures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 10:09:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21967606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amancer_Sunrise/pseuds/Amancer_Sunrise
Summary: Maybe, justmaybe,if the sisters of fate had been just slightly more kinder, he wouldn't be at a complete loss of how to cope, when he stared at himself in any sort of reflected glass. Perhaps, if they simply painted his future to be filled with more gain than loss, such deep soul damaging loss, maybe he would be just slightly better at what to do when he found himself in this type of situation.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 49





	Keep It Together. (You have to.)

**Author's Note:**

> Very Dante centric and a baby Nero! It's a secret Santa gift and I hope I did good, I am NO good at these things but any chance to give something small to any friends makes me happy plus i love dante so! Also the ~particular day~ was originally gonna be christmas without his mama but i was like "hm lemme make it worst" and made it the anni that he lost his mom so dantes not doing so well but he's gotta for nero who he is adopting and (beats vergil with a how dare you stick) The thing at the beginning is Dante's feelings about his reflection idk i wrote it ages ago when i couldn't find a stable plot but i liked it too much to take it out
> 
> But yeah! Merry Christmas, El!!! I hope you like this! I've been stuck on it for a bit and struggled and it may be short but I still hope you like it!!!

_-I locked it up for years and years,_

_And yet it continued to feed from my fears,_

_Which grew to be a creature with my face, skin_

_And scars._

_To a point where I could no longer tell us apart.-_

* * *

Maybe, just _maybe,_ if the sisters of fate had been just slightly more kinder, he wouldn't be at a complete loss of how to _cope,_ when he stared at himself in any sort of reflected glass. Perhaps, if they simply painted his future to be filled with more gain than loss, such deep soul damaging loss, maybe he would be just _slightly_ better at what to do when he _found_ himself in this type of situation.

If he meet the eyes of his blue-eyed doppelganger for _too_ long, his mind will suddenly begin to fumble, all possible coherent thoughts slipping through and being replaced with both the sensation and sound similar to that of TV static. Suddenly all too _aware_ of his surroundings. Everything that had been repressed to the deepest parts suddenly threatening to suddenly to spill and break him as if a dam.

It was terrifying, really. 

Yet it was one he knew all too well, never welcomed it, though. It was like that one person who would invite themselves to every outing for... some odd reason, and there was just a strong feeling in your gut that you simply couldn't _trust_ them. As if, given the chance, it would become destroy your very being from the inside out. Plotting every step of your down fall...

Okay, perhaps to others, it would be described as something completely different. But nothing else seemed to fit as another description besides _that_ in his head.

Still, he was supposed to pretend to have it all. As if he began to fall apart at the seams, there nothing would be able nothing in this world that would be able to stitch everything back together. And even if he had been put together, he would never have been the same.

He had to keep a smile, had to keep his jokes, his over exaggerated personality. As much as he spoke about solitude, the man knew he _needed_ the company to just _barely_ stay afloat.

He _had_ to.

He couldn't just allow himself to fall _apart._

He couldn't...

But tonight was one where the silence screamed so loudly and violently in his ears, giving the illusion that he was completely and utterly _alone._ Causing a sensation of _dread_ to coil tightly in his belly, heart pounding against the rib cage as if demanding to be free to escape whatever anxieties fill the room. The small contents in his stomach wanting so badly to come back up as nausea ate at him.

He was already beginning to slowly come undone.

The reflection catching his attention once more, the facade that took _years_ of build up threatening to crack. He stares, unmoving in his bathroom, save for his panicked breathing. All because he had to _see_ himself on _this particular_ _ **day.**_

He couldn't...

_He couldn't..._

_'Pull it together, Dante.'_

It's the only thought that seems to process through the said male without turning into static just as quickly as it came. Yet, Dante could not find any reasons to calm the devastation inside of him. His eyes continue to meet his reflection, and although Dante _knows_ that by doing this, _staring_ at himself once more, he cannot bring himself to look away. Fist clench suddenly, nails digging into his palm as his bottom lip trembles slightly.

_No._

_No, no, no._

_He_ _**couldn't.** _ _He_ _**had** _ _to keep it together._

It suddenly hurts too much to keep it up, for when one tear falls, another falls with it. And another, and another, _and another,_ _ **and another.**_

It hurts, _God,_ it kills him. The memory, so realistic, it's as if he could feel the heat once more dancing on his skin. As if the thick black smoke is suddenly shooting and filling his lungs once more. The endless _fear_ Dante felt behind those doors and just how badly he _wished_ things could be _different._ How he _prayed_ he would find something, _anything,_ to just change _that._

If only it were _that_ simple.

He can't bare to stare at himself once more as he finally breaks. Cheeks officially tear-stained, hands letting go of the sink to allow himself to gently press against the wall before slowly sliding down. It had been a while, hadn't it? Since he allowed himself to mourn? Mourn over the death of _her,_ the death of himself? With his head in his hands, Dante shakes his head. It was wrong, he wasn't supposed to _be_ like this.

He sat on his bathroom floor for what felt like hours before his cries begin to calm at last. His once hysterical sobbing finally being replaced with sniffling, before finally drifting off into silence. Silence that once again yelled through his ear drums, filling the space once more with it's violent screaming.

It was still painful, he knew it always will be.

But, when Dante finally found the strength once more to rise to his feet, he travelled through the dark hallways of _Devil May Cry_ in silence. Footsteps barely making a sound as he reaches his room door.

He _has_ to be okay.

The door opens and it's hinges squeaks ever so slight as he stares at the form of a sleeping child wrapped in the thin blankets. He doesn't do anything that can disturb the other, gently sitting down at the edge of his bed, a hand reaching and gently pushing some familiar white hair from his face. There is no response, much to Dante's relief.

Dante _has_ to be okay, _has_ to keep pushing on so history does not repeat once more.

"I have to be okay," he repeats out loud, scooping the sleeping boy in his arms, pulling him into a gentle embrace.

"I have to be okay to protect you..."

His eyes fill with tears once again, a bittersweet smile forming on his face. The sleeping child in his arms surprisingly undisturbed, sleeping ever peacefully, unaware of all.

_"...Nero."_


End file.
